


More Time

by cantodelcolibri



Series: Finding You Can Change [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, M/M, the product of me being at work and bored to all heck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:10:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7900942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantodelcolibri/pseuds/cantodelcolibri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Those words are... He used-” there, he cut himself off angrily. “He.” Fenris stopped again.<br/>“You don't have to-” Hawke tried, but stopped when Fenris held up a hand and looked at him beseechingly, asking for more time.<br/>Isn't that what Hawke had been giving him all along? Time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Time

 

The breeze coming off the shore was a brief respite from the stifling, humid heat of the Wounded Coast in the summer. Hawke led his exhausted, sweaty, and mildly injured group of friends down past the merchant who hung around the entrance to a set of caves (surely he knew this wasn’t the best place to sell his wares!). They were eager to reach Kirkwall (and for the most part, Anders) after a nasty encounter with a persistent group of Tal-Vashoth.

Merrill pranced about eagerly, chattering on about guard rotations and how well the Viscount’s gardenias were coming along. Aveline tried to warn her about the risks of admitting to the guard captain that she regularly trespassed onto private property. And Fenris, well…. 

Fenris was doing as Fenris did best: taking up the rear and looking for all the world as if he would bite the head off anyone who dared speak to him. 

Hawke, naturally, let himself fall behind the girls in order to speak to him. 

“It always takes me by surprise how not-fishy it smells around these parts. It’s the same sea, but not the same smell. Bit odd, isn’t it?”

“I would assume that much is due to the lack of fishing ports and refuse littering the area.” Despite his expression, Fenris caved into the conversation easily enough. 

“Not to mention the drunkards taking a piss at every corner,” 

“Not  every corner, surely.” A concerned Merrill piped up from in front of them. All ears, that one. 

“Only the Lowtown ones, I’m sure.”

“Merrill…“ Aveline sounded incredibly put-upon. Merrill veered off to the side to kneel beside a bush, claiming the leaves made a tea that reminded her of home. 

Fenris was back to silence, Hawke was having none of it. 

“You know,“ he said, absentmindedly picking at a scab on his arm that was beginning to form where a rogue Vashoth managed to nick him, “I was in a real pickle back there, when those guys surrounded me. If you hadn't come rushing in when you did, I would have been made a pincushion!“ 

“That wasn't exactly an isolated incident.“ Fenris groused. Did he sound annoyed?

“I'm sorry you had to save me.“ Hawke grinned sheepishly. Fenris snorted

“Save you? Hardly. You looked like you were ready to unleash a mind blast on them.“ 

There had been a time when Fenris would talk about his mind trick with revulsion and hate dripping from his voice. Now he said it as if he had found Hawke out on his lie, and with a little smile. “You don't really ever need saving, Hawke.“

“I need saving from great big horned men and their pointy ends! I'm not sure the mind blast would have worked, what with them being nearly twice my size and all!“

“You exaggerate. You`re not small. And you know your way around pointy ends. He nodded at the blade strapped to his staff.

If he were Isabela, he would follow up Fenris' words with an eyebrow waggle and some sort of dirty comment. But he wasn't. He was Hawke, and even thinking about the fact that Fenris would have rightful standing in saying that with implication hurt a little. The memory hurt.　

“I'm just saying, Fen, that if  _ someone _ would agree to teach me the basics of how to use this thing,“ He tossed his staff from hand to hand and brandished the blade at the end clumsily, “more gracefully than I currently do, which mind you is how a farmer uses a pitchfork,“ as if to prove his point, Hawke lost his grip and fumbled to keep his staff from falling, “I could have made it out of that predicament all by my lonesome.“

Fenris, same as ever, was not impressed with his theatrics. “So ask Aveline. She after all has experience in training hopeless recruits.“

They heard a telling cough from up ahead. Fenris looked like he was fighting a smile, and Hawke considered getting better friends. 

“I'm hurt, Fenris. Your words hurt me. A barb. I thought we were friends.“ Hawke put his hand up to his heart. Fenris gave him a bored look. 

“Besides, Aveline doesn't have to time to deal with hopeless recruits like me!“ He said a bit louder than necessary so that she could hear him. “You on the other hand... “

“What?“ Fenris' voice held a warning.

Hawke went on as if he hadn't heard it. “Fenris, you and I both know that you do nothing but sit in that mansion of yours and brood.“ 

Fenris gave him a look. 

“Come on, sacrifice some of the brooding time for hopeless old me. I'll ask Aveline if we can use the training field, so I don`t make more of a mess of your home.“ said Garrett, recalling an incident with a well intentioned cleaning spell and a few more than a bit ripe corpses. 

Fenris grimaced, as if remembering the same thing. “If I said no the last two times you've asked, what makes you think this time will be different?“

“Third time's the charm?“ He flashed Fenris what he hoped was his best roguish grin. Isabela had been training him, see. 

That bored look, again. Then a quiet, reluctant chuff of a laugh. 

“Alright. I will attempt to teach you.“

“I can't promise I'll be any good, though.“ He was talking in circles now, he knew. But anything to keep him talking, to keep hearing the reluctantly fond tone in his voice. Or well, anything to keep hearing his voice and imagining a reluctantly fond tone.

“I can promise that I am a good teacher. We shall see how hopeless you remain after we're done.“ Was what he responded with. Garrett fought the urge to jump up and down like a five year old. 

“Well you know I'll come knocking with a promise like that! I'll take all of your precious brooding time. Soon you'll regret ever agreeing to this!“

“I'm beginning to suspect I will.“

“Seriously, Fenris. Not a moment of peace. You'll be so exhausted and exasperated by me that you won't even have time to think about wanting to brood!“

“Are you trying to talk me out of the deal you only just managed to make me accept?“ He couldn't be imagining the fond tone, it was there. He could hear it. He could see it in the way that the corner of Fenris' mouth just slightly tilted up. 

“I am simply warning you, as a caring friend. I know I'm more than a handful. I just want you to know that you can back out of this if you want to.“ Hawke felt his face color and almost winced at his choice of words. But Fenris didn't seem to make the same connection he had made when uttering them. 

“There is no need. I am yours.” Fenris said. Simply. 

He said it in an off-hand way. A by-your-leave- a simple phrase, really. 

Garrett’s breath caught in his throat. And then his head caught on a few low-hanging branches that gave him a sizable slit on his brow. Hawke registered blood sluggishly leaking along the side of his face as he stopped in his tracks and watched as Fenris walked right on past him, as if that little murmur had meant nothing.

“Hawke?” Aveline’s concerned voice broke through the hazy bubble of joy that those three words had engulfed him in. She had dropped back when she had seen Fenris walking up to join them by himself. Now Merrill was telling Fenris about teas and how to properly dry and crush leaves. Aveline hovered in his line of sight. Hawke looked at her, eyes wide, and vaguely thought that he really must look like an idiot who managed to concuss himself on some branches. But he couldn't bring himself to speak. His mind was elsewhere.

 

* * *

 

 

“I love you.” He had said, all those years ago in the dark of the night. Fenris’ chest had stilled beneath Hawke’s fingers, and suddenly he turned onto his side to stare at Hawke in disbelief. Fear and hope had been equally present in his eyes and Hawke had the grace to consider that perhaps he didn't have the best timing. 

“I love you, Fenris.” he had said again. Timing didn't matter. Back then he had thought he had waited long enough. 

Fenris had not responded with words, but his touch had more than made up for the gap in verbal communication. 

Later, as they fell in together for the second time that night, Fenris spoke, as if every word cost him dearly. 

“Those words are... He used-” there, he cut himself off angrily. “He.” Fenris stopped again. 

“You don't have to-” Hawke tried, but stopped when Fenris held up a hand and looked at him beseechingly, asking for more time.

Isn't that what Hawke had been giving him all along? Time?

“In another life, perhaps I could repeat those words to you and not be reminded of when they were used against me, to control me.” 

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't say it again. You need only ask, Fen.” 

Fenris offered him a timid smile, which Garrett happily returned. 

“But then, I must ask; if not those words, then which ones?” Hawke ventured to ask. 

Fenris seemed to think it over, a thoughtful expression crossed his face that brought another, softer, smile to Hawke’s lips. 

“I will tell you when I think of them.” Fenris promised earnestly.

 

* * *

 

“Hawke really! How badly did you hit your head? Should I send Merrill to fetch Anders?” Aveline's voice cut through the happy haze that had clouded Hawke's mind. She hovered like a mother hen. He smiled at her happily. She looked more than a bit confused. 

“No, I’m….” Hawke watched as Fenris tried and failed to not look back at him. The flush on his ears gave him away. “I’m fine.” 

Merrill bounded up to him, small branches in hand, and she tried to get Fenris to hold some for her so she could go back for more. Fenris shook his head, but that didn't stop Merrill from shoving them at his chest and merrily skipping away. Hawke stared at him. Fenris looked flustered, a bit confused, affronted, and holding bunches of leaves that matched the color of his eyes. 

Beautiful.

Fenris made the mistake of looking up at him, begging for an escape as he often did whenever faced with Merrill and her antics. He looked at him as if to say “ _I know you asked me to be civil, but I am just this close to-”_  And then the look closed off, replaced by a flush, and a short bark directed at Merrill. Merrill responded by huffing something back at him and reaching up to tuck a sprig of leaves behind his ear. 

“Well, if you're sure...” Aveline turned to join the others and leave Hawke in his pathetic state.

He could wait. He could definitely wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno whether to make this a one stand thing or do another chapter or two. meh. will probably depend on my boredom levels.


End file.
